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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24291610">One More Bite</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikolai_Knight/pseuds/Kevin_Mask'>Kevin_Mask (Nikolai_Knight)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Kinnikuman Nisei | Ultimate Muscle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anorexia, Eating Disorders, Friendship, Gen, Poor Nutrition, Sad Ending</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:07:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,907</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24291610</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikolai_Knight/pseuds/Kevin_Mask</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Gazelleman struggles to cope with his eating disorder. </p><p>Mantaro tries to help him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kinniku Mantaro &amp; Gazelleman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Banned Banned Together Bingo 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>One More Bite</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>‘No thanks, Kid.’</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Gazelleman pushed back the platter. It was laden with various party foods . . . sausage rolls, sliced cheeses, spring rolls . . . the growl was from his stomach was loud, enough to break over the upbeat music that pumped out around the apartment. He rubbed at his stomach. The churning sensation was familiar, like a rolling sensation from deep within. It clenched and throbbed, while the acid rose to the back of his mouth, and he rapidly swallowed it down. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The heavy sweatshirt added to the encroaching fever, as he tugged at the collar. A sweat broke over his flesh, causing skin to stick to his sleeves, and his mind grew light-headed, as sparks of colour darted across his eyes and his vision narrowed around the edges. A hand came to rest on his shoulder, while he fought to take in deep and long breaths. There was an ache about his chest. He clenched at the soft fabric of his sweatshirt, where his fingers brushed against his chest, and finally they rested in the indent between his ribs. Kid choked out:</em>
</p><p>
  <em>‘Are you okay, Gazelle?’</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He was guided to a chair in the far corner. Kid shoved the platter onto a table, where it clattered and rattled, and Jade knelt before him, where he pressed the back of his hand against a clammy forehead. Gazelleman threw back his head, but his eyes followed the tray. There was an instinctive moistening of his mouth, as saliva crashed against his tongue, and his body ached deep in every joint, as he fell limp against the wood. It was a deep fatigue. It ran to his core, so that his eyelids were a struggle to keep open and his heart beat loud in his ears, as he muttered:</em>
</p><p>
  <em>‘I – I’m fine. I’m just tired . . .’</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The urge to sleep was as strong as the urge to eat. The music stopped, while the lights grew bright, and – with a curse – he lifted a hand to shield his eyes, as someone tried to strip him of the heavy sweatshirt. A sharp pain struck his temple, while his heart raced . . . adrenaline coursed through every vein . . . his head grew light, his vision went black, and suddenly all strength bled from his body, as he collapsed to the ground. The last thing he heard was his name.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>‘Gazelle? Gazelle!’</em>
</p><p>* * *</p><p>
  <em>Knock. Knock.</em>
</p><p>It was dark inside the shack. A slither of moonlight shone in through the window, where it reflected back off the impeccable stove in the kitchenette. It was bright enough to leave an imprint on his vision in the darkness, and gave him a focal point to focus his gaze, as he climbed unsteadily to his feet. The fatigue from the party lingered in his bones and joints. He struggled to his feet, where he staggered unsteadily towards the door and fell at its handle.</p><p>Gazelleman yawned, as he pressed his head to the cool wood. The knock came again. He pinched the bridge of his nose, while he stepped back enough to open the door . . . it was unlocked . . . whomever took him home must have forgotten to lock the door afterward. A crick of his neck echoed out about the quiet shack. The door flung wide open, where it revealed a familiar silhouette in the darkness before him, and the shorter figure seemed to fill the entire doorframe with their muscular physique. Gazelleman frowned, as he said:</p><p>“Oh, it’s you . . .”</p><p>Mantaro smiled. He wore only a t-shirt and loose pair of shorts, and yet there wasn’t a hint of any goose-bumps or even a blue tinge to his skin. Gazelleman hopped from foot to foot, as the cold air outside blasted through the doorway and brought his hands to his mouth, where he blew out warm air across the shivering digits. Mantaro frowned. He simply stared at Gazelleman with a tilt of his head, while his lips pursed beneath his mask into a fine line. The door remained a barrier between them . . . so easy to slam it, so easy to hold it open . . . Gazelleman bit his lip.</p><p>“I – er – thought I’d come check on you,” said Mantaro.</p><p>“Thanks, Junior, but I’m fine. Goodnight!”</p><p>Gazelleman threw shut the door, but Mantaro caught it in both hands. A loud ‘<em>hey</em>’ escaped Mantaro, as he thrust all his weight against the wood, and one hand came down to grasp at the door handle, where he rattled it with all his strength. The door jerked back and forth, but his elbows and shoulders seared with a burning pain that spread into every nerve. He put every ounce of energy into holding the door shut, but it was not enough . . . he panted for breath, while Mantaro barely moved. It was like a toddler fighting against a grown adult.</p><p>“I’m fine, Mantaro, you can go,” ordered Gazelleman.</p><p>“Dude, you can’t even shut the door on me!” Mantaro scoffed. “We’re worried about you! I know you like to look good and model and stuff, but you’re a wrestler first and foremost. It’s like you’re wasting away in front of us, and you can’t even see it for what it is, man!”</p><p>“I – I can see it perfectly – <em>argh, damn it</em>!”</p><p>Gazelleman fell backward. The door was thrown forward, as the last of his strength fled from his body, and Mantaro tumbled through with the sudden lack of resistance. A loud bang resounded about the shack. The door slammed against the wall, where it cracked into the plaster and wood, and Mantaro fell on top of him, where it knocked the wind from his lungs. They lay awkwardly on the ground, where the sheer weight of Mantaro made breathing a chore, and all he could do was to lie limply, until Mantaro muttered an apology and stood before him.</p><p>The footsteps echoed about the shack, as Mantaro made to close the door. It brought back the darkness, which was broken only by a flick of a light-switch, and – with a loud cry of pain – Gazelleman threw his arm over his head to shield his eyes. Mantaro muttered a low <em>‘sorry’</em>, before he helped roll away the futon and slid it into the cupboard. He soon plopped down onto the floorboards, where he snatched at a cushion for his buttocks, and waved at Gazelleman.</p><p>“You never used to be that weak,” chirped Mantaro.</p><p>“I’m not weak,” mumbled Gazelleman.</p><p>“Well, you sure aren’t strong now! You’re way too skinny, dude.”</p><p>Gazelleman fisted his hands, until nails left crescent-shaped cuts on his palm. He took in slow and shallow breaths, as his nostrils flared with every inhalation, and his eyes watered with unshed tears, as he squeezed them shut and swallowed back a lump in his throat. There was a tremble to his lips that he could not control, enough that his mouth jerked back and forth between a smile and frown, and his head grew light once more, when he finally reopened his eyes.</p><p>He marched towards the kitchenette. There was a lingering scent of freshly baked bread in the air, enough to make his mouth water, and there was a comfort in cooking . . . pride at accomplishment, joy in sharing a small gift . . . a bread knife sat on the cutting board, allowing him to make several slices. He forced a smile, as he looked over his shoulder to Mantaro, who yelled out ‘cheese’ and ‘egg’, and – with a nod – Gazelleman worked at creating a late-night snack, even as he wiped the sleep from his eyes and took another yawn.</p><p>Mantaro remained seated, until the food was finished. He cheered with a loud ‘whoop’ when Gazelleman brought the sandwich over on a plate, and it was placed on the low <em>kotatsu </em>with a soft clatter, while Mantaro flicked on the heating beneath the tabletop. Mantaro tore into the sandwich with little grace. It brought a wave of nausea from Gazelleman, who listened to each loud chomp and swallow, and he nearly fell faint when Mantaro spat out with a full mouth:</p><p>“Are you really not going to eat?”</p><p>The crumbs shot out across the <em>kotatsu. </em>Gazelleman brought his hand to his mouth; every contraction of his throat brought bile burning at his tongue, and he choked down on acid and half-digested biscuits. He used all his strength to take a napkin and wipe away the crumbs, while his mind ran in circles around the same thought . . . <em>is that how I look when I eat?</em> . . . Gazelleman gnawed at the inside of his cheek, until he tasted iron. It flooded his mouth.</p><p>“I’m not hungry,” said Gazelleman.</p><p>“You don’t have to eat big,” replied Mantaro. “I know a great vegetarian buffet! They open late, so we can go there and eat as much or as little as we want. There’s this smoothie that’s all green and stuff, and it looks like it’s already been digested, but it’s actually super nice!”</p><p>“I don’t really feel up to trying anything new.”</p><p>“It’s just a smoothie. That’s a drink, right? I know you’ve been funny with food, but drink is hardly going to make you put on weight or anything, and there’s loads of nice drinks. Meat always tells me to avoid milkshakes and alcohol, and fizzy drinks, and coffee actually . . . huh, maybe there are bad drinks. Still, you can’t live off water!”</p><p>Gazelleman tensed. He tightened his hands on the edge of the table. The knuckles turned white, while his breath came out audible enough to break the silence, and he shoved hard at the <em>kotatsu</em>, enough to knock it into Mantaro’s abdomen. He stood and paced before the kitchenette, while he gesticulated wildly to half-formed words and aborted sounds. Mantaro muttered a complaint, as he licked a thumb and swept it around the plate, and – before sucking the thumb – complimented the quality of the bread. It brought a sad laugh from Gazelleman, who finally stood still.</p><p>“Do you know how many calories are in a glass of wine?” Gazelleman shook his head. “Do you know that smoothies will still have calories and contribute to your fat intake? I know you just eat anything in sight, but some of us have a little thing called ‘self-control’.”</p><p>“Hey, I need a heavy calorie intake to maintain muscle mass!”</p><p>“It’s just a shame none of it goes to your brain.”</p><p>There was a honk of a car horn. A few people yelled in the distance, while something splashed in the river just beside the shack, and around them life went on, even despite the early hours in the city that never slept. He snatched at a small tin of tealeaves, before adding a pinch to the teapot and flicking the switch to the electric kettle. Gazelleman opened the door to the fridge. He hesitated. It was a small gesture, almost imperceptible, but it brought a low hiss from Mantaro regardless, as Mantaro struggled to stand and come over to his side.</p><p>Mantaro opened the door and took out the milk, while Gazelleman focused on stewing the teapot and finding the strainer, and no words were said between them, even as Mantaro finished the process with a hummed song. The traffic outside appeared to pick up speed, while Mantaro took two full cups to the <em>kotatsu</em>. He waved Gazelleman over. Gazelleman took a seat opposite him, where his hands wrapped around the warm cup and allowed it to heat his skin.</p><p>“So,” said Mantaro. “How long have you been sick?”</p><p>The cloud of steam from the cup billowed upward. It provided a small distraction, as Mantaro sipped with loud slurps and sighs, and the room slowly began to grow warm again, even as Mantaro groaned and pinched at the collar of his shirt. He would billow it in and out, while he complained about the heat. Gazelleman shrugged. He pushed away the mug at some distance, before he folded his arms and narrowed his gaze darkly at Mantaro.</p><p>“I’m <em>not</em> sick,” spat Gazelleman.  </p><p>“Dude, you <em>look</em> sick.” Mantaro rolled his eyes. “The skin peeking out your costume is all pale and gross looking, and your bones are practically sticking out from your skin. You can hide it all you want beneath baggy clothes, but what’s the point in starving yourself to be thin if you can’t show it off? I don’t know; it just seems a waste of time to me is all.”</p><p>“Look, I’m not in the mood to be lectured, Mantaro. You act like I’m some schoolgirl that can’t take care of herself . . . I may get sick a lot lately, but there’s a lot of colds going around. I’m also at an ideal weight and look rather good, if I don’t say so myself.”</p><p>“Oh? Then how much do you weigh?”</p><p>Gazelleman took in a deep breath. The quickening of his heart broke through his senses, enough that it started to drown out all other sound . . . <em>thud, thud, thud</em> . . . he pressed his hand to his chest, while his pursed his lips and bit into the skin inside. He made to stand, but Mantaro shot his hand across the table. The fingers encircled his wrist. Gazelleman yanked his arm back, but the grip was too strong, and each attempt only threatened to bruise his skin in the attempt, until he dropped his arm onto the tabletop and blinked back tears. He choked out:</p><p>“What’s it to you?”</p><p>“Dude, you’re freaking six foot seven!” Mantaro shouted. “Do you have any idea what your weight needs to be for a healthy BMI? I’m pretty sure you should be between eighty and ninety kilograms, but you don’t look anywhere near that amount.”</p><p>“Oh, I see! So this is what this is about,” laughed Gazelleman. “You’re jealous! Well now, Mantaro, if you wanted some dieting tips then all you had to do was ask! A large guy like you must find it hard, what with your slowing metabolism and lack of self-control . . . I always knew there’d come a day when you couldn’t eat like a goat and would turn out like your dad.”</p><p>“T-that is not it at all! I think you are starving yourself again! I’m worried!”</p><p>Gazelleman rolled his eyes. He slammed a hand hard on the tabletop, enough that the untouched mug rattled from its uneasy position, and – still full of tea – it fell over and spilled its content all over Mantaro’s lap. The hot contents scalded his shorts. It brought a series of curses from Mantaro who tried to jump upright, but knocked his knees on the <em>kotatsu</em>, and Gazelleman simply slid a tea-towel over to him with a muttered apology. Mantaro snatched it and patted down his shorts, while his lips formed a pout and his eyes narrowed. Gazelleman choked out:</p><p>“I – I’m sorry, Mantaro, but you really have no reason to worry.”</p><p>“Okay so how much <em>do</em> you weigh?”</p><p>“I weighed myself twice today: I was fifty-two kilograms each time.”</p><p>Mantaro choked on the air itself. He forewent mopping up the tea, as he coughed until tears streamed down his face, and he pointed a trembling finger straight at Gazelleman. It brought a blush to Gazelleman’s cheeks, as he wrapped his arms around his chest, and he scooted back until he was against the wall, where he lowered his head and hid in on himself. He brought his legs up to his torso, while he avoided Mantaro’s gaze. The two remained in silence. Mantaro soon stood and tidied the table, as he took the contents back to the kitchenette. He whispered:</p><p>“You think that’s a reason <em>not</em> to worry?” Mantaro shook his head. “That BMI is low even for me . . . heck, I think I’d be ‘underweight’ at that. If you were a human, you’d be <em>dead</em> right now, dude! I can see now why you’ve been avoiding weigh-ins like the plague.”</p><p>“You – You don’t understand . . . it took me <em>ages</em> to get to my ideal weight!”</p><p>“This is your ideal weight?”</p><p>“This isn’t just some ‘crash diet’.” Gazelleman swallowed hard. “I was starting to feel fat, Mantaro, and it didn’t help when Jade was calling me a ‘flabby old man’. I’m not like you guys; I don’t win battles, I don’t always get the girl, and I don’t know enough to be a second. I’ve always had my looks, though, and then when people started making fun of those -?”</p><p>“What good are your looks when you’re dead, though? You’re falling asleep at parties, and you’re failing training sessions, and that’s not normal for a ‘diet’, especially when you used to be the number one student. I’d rather be an imperfect person than a perfect corpse.”</p><p>“Look, what I’m doing is working, isn’t it?”</p><p>The silence spoke volumes. Mantaro stared at him without a word, even as he refilled the kettle for a second mug of tea, and his blue eyes burrowed into Gazelleman, so that his gaze could be felt even Gazelleman looked in another direction. The hiss of the kettle echoed about the room, and his stomach growled despite his attempts to soften the noise. He angled his head towards the familiar sounds, while his stomach clenched and churned and clawed at his insides, and Mantaro ignored him, even as he poured the water into the teapot to stew, as he coldly said:</p><p>“Okay, fine, why don’t you tell me how the first few day of the diet went? I mean, we’ve all dieted at some point . . . it’s part of the job, considering we’ve got to be lean and mean to defeat the Evil Chojin and save humanity from itself. So how do you feel? You must be hungry?”</p><p>“At first I did,” admitted Gazelleman. “The first few days were the worst. It was difficult, yes, but when the hunger kicks in there are tricks to keep it at bay. It sometimes helps to drink water. I found that if you just <em>wait it out </em>that the hunger goes away, rather like the appetite equivalent of a ‘second wind’. You stop feeling it after a while. It’s rare now that I feel the hunger.”</p><p>“You must feel it sometimes, right?”</p><p>“I do, but I try to ignore it. I suppose it doesn’t help my mood, I’ll admit, but it’s hard to feel happy when you’re always feeling peckish. I know you guys think of me as a lone-wolf and a bit standoffish, and maybe I am just a naturally grumpy person, but I think it’s exacerbated by hunger. It’s hard to concentrate or care when you’re craving food so bad.”</p><p>“So . . . why not just eat?”</p><p>“I sometimes have a biscuit to stave off the pains, but I know I shouldn’t. I do eat, though; I have my first bite to eat at four o’clock for dinner, and then I’ll have a very light snack at eight o’clock to keep me healthy. I’m not a fool. I know that a refusal to eat equals starvation. All I’m doing is limiting my fat intake. It’s . . . it’s a necessary evil, that’s all.”</p><p>A low groan escaped Mantaro. He poured the tea through the strainer, with the trickle of water echoing out through the darkness, and he added milk and sugar to his mug, while avoiding any extras to the second mug. It was carried over to the <em>kotatsu</em>, where he placed the plain tea before Gazelleman with a small click of ceramic on the tabletop. The scent had him salivating, as Gazelleman wrapped his hands around the outside, and – bringing it to his lips – paused with a furrowed brow, before taking a long sip. Mantaro returned to the kitchenette.</p><p>“What about exercise?” Mantaro asked. “Couldn’t you just eat normally and then keep healthy by exercising? Why can’t you just go back to doing that? I am sure Meat would be happy to help you if you just asked! I know that you prefer to hide out of sight, but what harm would there be from some jogging once and a while? It would be healthier.”</p><p>“No, it wouldn’t! I <em>tried </em>that already, Mantaro! I worked out and exercised and maintained a healthy diet, but no matter <em>what </em>I did everyone else was always one step ahead! If I worked out in a sweat, I’d just be teased for how out-of-shape I was, and they’d still be raring to go!”</p><p>“So you decided to give up and binge?”</p><p>“I <em>didn’t</em> binge. I’ve <em>never</em> binged!” Gazelleman shook his head. “I just made a stealthy retreat into the comfort of home in order to reconsider my options, <em>then</em> decided that if I couldn’t be as handsome or as strong as some of you, I’d have to lose weight with other methods.”</p><p>“Is that what triggered you this time to stop eating again?”</p><p>Gazelleman slammed his mug hard onto the table. The force of it dented the surface of the wood and cracked part of the mug, and some tea spilled over the side onto his hand, where he cursed and brought the burned finger to his mouth. He struggled to still his heartbeat, as the searing pain raged through the reddened skin on his finger. The dizziness returned. He leaned back against the wall, where he fought to catch his breath and fight back the nausea.</p><p>He winced as his stomach clenched, as if someone had their fingernails in his flesh, and that same sharp and acute stabbing feeling prevented him from moving too much. It felt as if the more he moved the more he would feel it sear at his skin. Mantaro moved towards him, but stopped and went back to the counter. He leaned against its edge. Gazelleman reached back for his mug, as he swirled its contents and watched it spin, but the energy was too much and his forearm ached. He put the mug down. Mantaro sipped at his own mug, as he muttered: </p><p>“Are you jealous of us?”</p><p>“Why would I be jealous?”</p><p>“I don’t know, but it’d explain why you’re so sensitive about your weight. It’d also explain why you like to cook and take care of everyone else, kind of like Seiuchin, because it’s like a way of living vicariously through us, isn’t it? It’s no wonder you’re always judging us, making fun of us, teasing us . . . you’re projecting your own fears on us, ‘cause it’s easier than facing your fears.”</p><p>Gazelleman scoffed. He rolled his head to the side, where his brown eyes fell on Mantaro, and Mantaro simply stood with his fingers fidgeting with the counter, while he hopped from foot to foot with a frantic energy. Gazelleman felt his lips tremble, as he saw the sheer emotion . . . <em>fear, betrayal, confusion</em> . . . he cast his face away from Mantaro, where he gazed into the shadows at the far corner of the room. The tea continued to fill the room with its rich aroma, enough to tempt him for another sip, but his hand trembled too much to hold the mug. Mantaro whispered: </p><p>“Why’d you do this to yourself?”</p><p>“Oh, I don’t know,” sighed Gazelleman. “I suppose a lot has happened lately. It’s strange, because I thought I was coping so well with everything . . . everything inside my head . . . but I think the reality is that I blame myself for some things, and then someone else says something remotely connected, and my mind starts building connections. It starts as some small thing and suddenly everything else is expanding from that like a spider’s web, until . . . I can’t cope.”</p><p>“So you know that you don’t need to lose weight?”</p><p>“I know in my head that I don’t,” admitted Gazelleman. “I know that my body-mass index puts me as ‘underweight’, and I know that some people say that I’m too slender or small, but in here it feels different. I feel fat and weak. I feel like I’m losing control.  It doesn’t help then when Jade or others make fun of me, because suddenly I’m nothing and feel like nothing.”</p><p>He wiped away at a tear. A loud sniff echoed about the room, as he looked back to Mantaro with a trembling smile that failed to quite reach his eyes, and – with a shrug – he returned to toying with the mug, while the tears distorted his vision. Mantaro downed the rest of his drink, before returning it to the sink and washing it out with slow and deliberate movements. He dried it after and placed it back on the rack, as he came around the <em>kotatsu</em> and stared down at Gazelleman, while he scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck. He opened his mouth to speak and stopped.</p><p>“Anyway, this is a bit of a downer, huh?” Gazelleman leaned. “You’re just worrying over nothing, Mantaro! Everyone has moments when they feel down and out. I know <em>you </em>sulked for ages after the Chojin Olympics when Kevin kicked your ass! You even ran away from home.”</p><p>“T-that was different, you idiot! I didn’t starve myself like you!”</p><p>“Well, which is worse really in the scheme of things?”</p><p>The expression on Mantaro’s face hardened. It brought a stab back to his stomach, as Gazelleman winced and clasped his hands before him on the table, and – while pressing his canine teeth into his lip – toyed with his fingers and scratched at his cuticles. Mantaro remained silent with his recent maturity, even as he straightened his back and cricked his neck. He adjusted his t-shirt and smoothed out the creases. Gazelleman took in a deep breath, while he pressed his elbow subtly into his stomach with some pressure, as if to force away the pain.</p><p>“I guess I’ll go then,” muttered Mantaro.</p><p>Gazelleman rapidly blinked. He made to stand upright, but the blood rushed to his head. It knocked him straight back to the floor, while the uneasy light-headed sensations made his head swim, as is floating in water, and his vision blurred with the aura of a migraine. Mantaro turned around and placed his hand on the door-handle, where he clicked it down and opened it a few inches, and – once again – the icy cold swept over Gazelleman and made him shiver.  </p><p>“W-wait! There’s still some tea left,” murmured Gazelleman. “It’d be a shame to waste it.” </p><p>“I suppose I could finish it, but we kind of need to finish the conversation, too.”</p><p>“Look, you -!”</p><p>“I know, it’s difficult,” said Mantaro. “I felt the same when I lost in the finals. I’d spent my <em>whole life</em> being told that I was going to be great, and I worked hard at my studies and I stuck with training even when I hated it and I won every battle I faced. It shook me to my core to suddenly be this ‘loser’, like I had to redefine myself and my entire existence.” </p><p>Gazelleman shook his head. He opened and closed his mouth, as small sounds tumbled out that ultimately meant nothing, and he curled in on himself on the ground, as he wrapped his arms around his legs and tightly hugged himself. The heat from beneath the <em>kotatsu</em> seeped out from underneath the overhanging blanket, enough to prove a small comfort, and he locked eyes with Mantaro, who looked back with a saddened smile. They shared a lingering look. The door remained half-open and half-closed, with a terrible draught blowing through the shack.</p><p>“It feels like my weight is all that I have,” choked Gazelleman. “It’s the <em>only </em>thing in my life that I have control over, and it’s the only thing I can be proud of, so maybe – just maybe – if I can get thin enough people will like me again. I just want to have something worthwhile.”</p><p>The tears spilled hot down his cheeks. They left visible lines on the skin, while they tasted bitter and salty on his lips, and he pressed his forehead onto his knees, so that Mantaro would fail to see the cries, even as his chest jerked with his sobs. A group of young men cheered in the distance, while a car skidded and beeped its horn. It flashed a light behind the door. Mantaro was lit up with a bright glow, but it cast his face in an eerie shadow that ages him beyond his years, and Gazelleman poked his head out just enough to whisper in a broken voice:</p><p>“Just go, will you? I’m tired. I haven’t eaten since five o’clock and I’m running on empty.”</p><p>Gazelleman struggled to his feet. The very act of simply standing up and down, moving back and forth, exhausted him, and his joints were swollen and ached. He stumbled over to the kitchenette, where he dropped his hands onto the edge of the counter, and – struggling to catch his breath – he leaned forward where his tears dropped onto the marble. Mantaro shuffled around in the doorway, where the door opened fully to reveal the inky blackness of the night beyond.  </p><p>“I’ll go,” said Mantaro. “Just promise me you’ll talk to someone, yeah?”</p><p>“Please, just leave me alone . . .”</p><p>Mantaro nodded. He failed to meet Gazelleman’s eye. The way he paused in the doorway was unnerving, as he returned to being a faceless shadow . . . an indistinct silhouette . . . Mantaro took in a deep and staggered breath, before he whispered: <em>‘okay’. </em>Mantaro stepped outside, where the door clicked behind him with a gentle sound, and once more Gazelleman was alone, as he slid down the counter and dropped onto the floor. The shack was cold. It brought goose-bumps to his skin, as he drew in shuddered breaths and blinked back tears, and finally . . .</p><p>Gazelleman wept.</p><p> </p>
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